


The Sun Will Come Out...Yesterday

by MarlaHectic



Series: Happy Archives [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Found Family, Friends to Loves, Gen, Gods I suck at Tagging, I just wanted to make them happy, M/M, Mild spoilers of Season 5, Multi, Spoilers up to Season 4, Tim-centric, Time Travel Fix-It, Trauma, absolute not explanation of how the time travel was made, bcs our bi-king deserves it, but not really, maybe I should have led with that tag..., no beta read we die like assistants, set in alterantive season 1, the major character death is "reversed"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29986584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarlaHectic/pseuds/MarlaHectic
Summary: Tim has just died. Or, at least, he had just died…until he woke up, back in 2016. Brought back by a version of Jon that felt both younger and older that the one that went with him to destroy the Circus……WHAT ON EARTH?!Shitty summary, sorry; just a teeny tiny, fix-it fic dedicated to my also teeny tiny and jet adorable TMA group chat on Twittah.I wish you all like it ;)(Publishing every other day)
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Georgie Barker/Melanie King, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Series: Happy Archives [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205762
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> This is Marla presenting to you a short yet long-in-the-sense-of-multichapter-story fic set on a fix-it Magnus Archives AU!  
> The logistic of how everything had been fixed…honestly, I don’t even know. The only important thing is that all assistants are alive (and human-ish aka Daisy is not full wolf-lady; but the characters that are avatars still are, same for the ones with ‘entities’ immunity’). The Fear-related injuries remain (but not the complete human ones –to say something-, unless they were made before canon, of course) as well as all their memories so…it can be kind of traumatising (IT OBVIOUSLY IS).  
> Also, I brought Jerry back to life because this is my fic and I just want to feel fine (life is pretty shitty right now for me, need to cope somehow) and, since the ‘fix’ happened some place in the beginning/middle of season 5…nobody knows what the tape recorders are really about.  
> So, with that in mind and being sorry for all my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes,  
> I hope you enjoy this story,  
> Allons-y!  
> Marla
> 
> Extra note about chapter one in particular: Sooo, this is shorta-kinda a prologue…just to set the story. It’s a bit angsty, but I promise things are only getting better from here!   
> Hope you enjoy it!

In his last moments, Tim Stoker thanked the physical pain that overcame him; since it muted almost completely his sorrow and rage, that had consumed so much of him for…had it been two years?   
Time had been lacking any kind of meaning for him a while ago already.  
He felt as his whole body stopped being a whole and then…  
…someone was slapping him. 

The slap itself didn’t felt quite alright, as if the hand violently collapsing against his face had some kind of malformation…the skin deformed as plastic who had been burned without any criteria for some time…  
He opened his eyes, to stare to a Jonathan Sims that felt as amiss as, well, the very fact that was still alive and, apparently, in great shape…  
…too great, perhaps. He reached his thorax with one hand, to find out that the ribs that were starting to show reaching clearly unhealthy limits due to lack of regular diet of any kind (good or bad, who needs food when you have unbearable pain and anger?!) and almost complete disappearance of working-out in the last times were covered again by thick, well-trained muscle.  
[What on Earth is going on?]  
A scary, dreadful thought crossed his mind: What if all this was The Stranger’s doing? What if the actually achieved absolutely NOTHING and it had all been a very elaborate illusion by Nicola and their nut-job army?  
He focused on Jon (if it was actually Jon), trying to figure out what felt so wrong about him. Or, maybe, what could be right about him.  
If you didn’t pay too much attention, he looked just as he used to when he first became The Archive’s Archivist.  
Librarian-ish looks, short way-too-formal cut dark hair plagued with grey hair (on which, in Tim’s opinion, he was wasting all the potential it had to make him go a couple of numbers up in The Stoker’s Ultimate Sexiness Ranking) and glasses that didn’t seem to be only staying all together by force of will, as they had done right before…his death?  
However, there was something in his eyes…he was SEEING HIM, without effort, as if it came naturally for him now. It was definitively not a human look. But something in them was simultaneously…more humane than ever before, was if he had gone through enough shit to finally lose all his ‘academic with a stick on his ass’ vibe.   
Tim recalled when Danny had his hiperfixiated-Neanderthal-phase as a child and used to describe them as “they were not humans, but they WERE PEOPLE”.   
That was exactly how he would have described this new version of his (former?) boss right in front of him, half way before and after The Circus.  
“You are well awake now, good thing.” There was no question there, it was a Statement.  
Talking about statements…was that that he was hearing a tape recorder?  
There wasn’t one a few seconds ago, and not him, nor the other ‘man’ had had any chances of switching it on…  
“Jon, is this real? And, if it is, WHAT ON BLOODY HELL IS IT SUPPOSED TO FUCKING BE?!”  
The Archivist smiled with tiredness.  
“That is one hell of a story…Fine…Statement of Jonathan Sims, regarding…some partial fix-up. Given to Tim Stoker, 24 March 2016…  
…Statement begins.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very expected reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter! I just LOVED writing certain meeting that takes place in here…I just hope you like it even as half as I enjoy “creating it”.   
> Wish you like it, allons-y!   
> Marla

Of all the weird, supernatural, unbelievable stuff Tim had gone through in the latest times, the story Jon had told him was clearly a winner.  
“So, let me get this straight…” He chuckled a bit, almost unconsciously, remembering how he used to use that sentence as a pun even when the intention was the expression itself; he misses those times so much... “Elias MADE YOU cause the Apocalypse and, technically, it’s still happening in another timeline…where everyone is still dead, or pretty much REALLY SCREWED UP; but, somehow, an Entity that was…bored? Feeling especially bounteous? Never mind; they helped you to, plainly explained, upload the final versions of a few people in this reality (killing our doppelgängers’ minds in the process) so at least there is a world where the Beholding doesn’t win? More concretely, where ELIAS MOTHERFUCKING BOUCHARD (or JONAH MAJOR ASSHOLE MAGNUS, whatever suits you better) doesn’t get to be The Big Final Boss. Oh, and you are not human anymore, but a walking Wikipedia with Professor X-like powers.”  
Jon nodded.  
“It’s kind of an oversimplification, but it will work for now.” He frowned. “You don’t believe me. Or, at the very least, you don’t trust me.”  
Tim scoffed.  
“Can you blame me?”  
The other man smirked, tired.  
“Not really but…” He stood up. “Come on, there is someone you have to…meet.” 

Walking through the Archives felt wrong. Not weird, not out of place, just plainly WRONG. Still, Tim followed his, he guessed, former boss through the narrow corridor until they stopped right outside the cafeteria, where he knocked twice.  
A voice he thought he was never going to hear again (just as any other voice in his memory) came a few seconds later, followed by some hurried steps.  
“Coming!”  
The door opened, showing a Martin that felt as out of place as Jon. And was that a bit of fog around him? He really didn’t want to know.  
“Oh, hi Tim!” He shared a stare with Jon and Tim’s gaydar special THEY ARE DATING function started working as the perfect engine it was.  
“Wait, you two…Martin, WAS JON THE CRUSH YOU WROTE THOSE POEMS ABOUT?! HOW DIDN’T I REALISE IT?! DID SASHA…?!”  
His voice broke, as those two syllables broke his heart all over again.  
Martin gave him a sympathetic look.   
“About that, you might want to enter the cafeteria. We’ll be outside.”

Upsweep curly brown hair, round glassed and tiny freckles covering almost all her light-browned skin.   
A light purple sweater a bit too big for her with the sleeves slightly rolled up so they couldn’t get messy or bother her anyhow.  
Her bright, inquisitive eyes were lost in thought, clearly trying to process the shame story he was having a hard time believing.   
He swallowed, loudly enough for her to hear and turned his head towards him.  
A smiled appeared simultaneously on both assistants’ faces, though –as always- she was the first one to speak.  
“Hi Stoker.” She said, as she left the tea she had been drinking on the table and stood up.   
He rushed to her and both melted in an everlasting hug.  
“I can’t believe I had forgotten you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, that’s it for today. Did you like it? As always, any random comments, kudos or feedback are highly appreciated.   
> Long live and prosperity,   
> Marla


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole team is chilling, it was about time, don't you think?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of transition between the ending I wanted to give this story and the initial pitch of it (and Tim being Tim, I just wanted to write Tim being Tim, I wish I had made it well).   
> Anyway, I still hope you enjoy it and you find it comforting to meet all our characters alive and, at least, half Ok.   
> Allons-y!   
> Marla

Tim let the longest sight of History of Mankind left his body as he relaxed against the wall, looking at the rest of team, all equally tied and relieved.  
He closed his eyes in a pretty overdramatic pose.  
So…that was it.  
They had, in what was basically everyone’s words, kick Elias’ pompous ass out of The Institute; now to be run by Melanie King [from Angry Ghostbuster-Youtuber to Blind Monsterhunter-Academic-ish…quite a journey; Tim must admit he had been a bit disappointed when he learned that a) she was in a committed exclusice relationship and b) only into ladies] and her girlfriend (and, by some mystical magic that he believed not even The Beholding in all his almighty knowledge could truly understand, Jon’s EXGIRLFRIEND –honestly, between her and Martin…what such nice people saw in The Archivist was beyond him-) were to rule it as they were, somehow, immune to the Entities; so they would try and keep them in line as much as they could because, being honest, it wasn’t as if any of their misfit team was capable of going back to fully civilian life.   
Of course, it had been harder that just that, but he didn’t want to think in the details; what was done, had been done and there was no turning back now.  
The smell of smoking next to him made him slightly open one eye.   
It was the new and just-brought-from-the-dead-because-the-anonymous-helper-that-had-made-this-possible-had-a-soft-spot-for-him acquisition for the team, the young man with the Goth looks…Gerard.  
“Mind sharing, Gerry?”  
He made a slightly unpleased face, but shared anyway.  
“Why don’t you like me calling you Gerry? Jon does.”  
“Only for friends.”  
“And how on Earth did you two became friends, hadn’t you died way before he even became The Archivist?”  
“Yeah, well…he was the first person who actually truly LISTENED to me in a very long time. Fuck, he was the first person, point period. Plus, he did me quite a solid.”  
“What was it?”  
“He killed me, forever. Or, at least, back then.”  
Tim laughed, sarcastically.  
“Why am I not even a bit surprised about that…?”   
He spotted Sasha waving at him and punch softly the other man on the elbow, making him gave him a constricted surprised look.  
“See ya’, Gerry.”  
“We are not friends…”  
“Oh, we’ll get there, TRUST ME.”

“Miss James.”  
“Mister Stoker.”  
Both laughed; even when he couldn’t remember he had lost her, even when there was the Not-Sasha around, he had still missed her; without even realising it, the aching had been there, a whole in his chest nothing could fulfil.  
“Had you met our own personal Emo kid? Good taste in Tabaco.”  
She scoffed.  
“Those things are going to kill you.”  
“Really? After all we have gone through (and are likely to keep going in a less-unhealthy-way as the messed up found-family we are about to become) are you ACTUALLY worried about ME SMOKING?”  
“Supernatural terrors don’t make regular terrors disappear, Tim.” She said, in a bit petulant voice.  
He rolled his eyes.  
“I didn’t miss when you acted like my mother, or sister.”  
They both laughed and started a pretty mundane conversation, gossiping about all the people there present.   
“So…everyone is kind of coupling, sans us and Gerry-boy; though his whole Unwelcome-To-The-Black-Parade aesthetic is really working against him.”  
His best friend gave him a mischievous look while crossing her arms behind her back.  
“Well, you seemed pretty friendly back there, and I know your tactics; as does lady angry cop over there…”  
He blushed.  
“YOU KNEW I SLEPT WITH…?!”  
“Oh, Tim dear, I might not be…how did Melanie said? ‘Ceaseless Watcher’s Special Little Girl’, but I am still pretty good at knowing, well, almost everything. Just…one question.”  
“Shoot.”  
“Did you know the whole wolfie-thingy?”  
“I am not going to honour that sick, sick question with an answer, miss James. You should be ashamed of yourself.”  
“You slept with a cop.”  
“Point taken, but…there were two. Mickey worked on the other sift, I needed an inside guy at all times.”  
Her hazel eyes pierced him, with a welcoming amusement.  
“You are unbelievable.”   
“I think that is not the word you were looking for, but fine with me.”   
She punched him slightly in the arm and they both laughed, the sound of their voices converging until they were undiscernible.   
They felt into a comfortable silence, one of those you can only find with those so close to you that the mere thought of their loss hurts to deeply to be held for more than a few seconds and, eventually, ended up sitting on the floor, her head comfortably set on his shoulder.  
For the first time since he came back, for the first time in quite a while in what for him had been years (even if technically those years hadn’t had taken place yet), Tim started feeling peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, just one chapter from the end! Any strong (or weak) opinions?   
> As always, any random comments, kudos or feedback are highly appreciated.   
> Long live and prosperity,   
> Marla


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has a brilliant idea and receives an unexpected reaction to it…Well, unexpected for him, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are heeeeere, I cannot believe I’ve actually finished a multiple chapter fic on a “schedule”! Ending highly required by @WesteraDelNorte (basically, I’m just paraphrasing and translating it…).   
> Crossing fingers for you guys to like this.   
> Allons-y!   
> Marla

The first who appeared were Jon and Martin, Tim still processing the fact that they appeared holding hands.  
“They are very cute, aren’t they?”  
He jumped, scared; Sasha giggling behind him.  
“Jesus or Fears or Whatever! Sasha, please, don’t murder me! One day I would absolutely love you to be the one taking my mundane life but…not today. How long have you been here?”  
“I…I never went home. I…still remember when everything…just stopped. It was worse than dying, it…” She groaned. “I’m sorry, I can’t explain.”  
He hugged her, no words needed; just willing he could do more to shield her from the whole universe and beyond.  
“Ey, do you think you can turn that feeling into pure rage so you can face all the angry faces of everyone when they appeared after I called for a special meeting at 6 AM?”  
“No need to ask twice.”

Inside that room there were two types of wolves (and Daisy): the ones who seemed way more than plainly upset about the timing and those who were way too sleepy to even realise how crazy it was to call an urgent meeting before the sun raised.  
Pretending he didn’t realise the general discontent, Tim started his pitch with a parodic version of the TED Talk attitude, still feeling a bit stiff in his once usual laid-back ‘being’, but willing to give his whole heart and soul to become, if not the same (because we can never come back to what we once were), a closer version to what he used to be instead of what he came to be after…after everything.  
“Hello; ladies and gents…what do we all have in common?” Nobody answered but, looking at their expressions, they weren’t thinking exactly the same as he was. “FAMILY ISSUES! TONS OF THEM! And, correct if I am wrong, we are all as straight as River Findhorn, right?”  
Still not answer.  
“My point being…this institute…are we really going into the monster-hunter creature-of-the-week-cliché? That doesn’t pay the bills, my dear friends. So I thought…a refuge.”  
At this, everyone seemed suddenly more prone to listen.   
“A refuge?”  
“YEAH! You know? For kids and teens that are being thrown out of their houses for not being in their parents normality line or whatever other unreasonable reasonable reason. Then, we could ask for money to help us in an actual legal proper manner.” He made his tone more polite (though a bit more parodic) as he spoke that last line. “And we could offer random special courses for whoever is interested. I mean, THE TALENT HERE; from personal defence to how to be an annoying know-it-all, I mean, academic.”  
“And the statements?” Jon inquired, almost using his ‘Archivist’ voice, clearly annoyed by the obvious reference to his person.  
“Na’, that states the same. After all, we are a ‘reference for the paranormal investigation’, which a very fancy way of saying we are the laughing stock of every other ‘serious’ Institute. This is just the raw version, I have made actual research and it could work, pretty good if we put all our minds to it. Plus, reliving could be just what all these people need to finally realise they need bloody therapy! Thanks for coming to my TED talk.”  
After this, he bowed a little and stared at everyone, expecting some kind of response.  
He definitively hadn’t expected what he got.  
Sasha stood up and exchanged a thumbs-up with Martin and then, reached him and gently, kissed him in front of the whole group.  
For a second, he believed he was still fighting the Circus, trapped in something that was most definitively NOT REAL.  
“Oh, Tim, it would have been all so much more adorable if you hadn’t left a very suspicious folder in your desk and then came back running for it ten seconds later.”  
“Wait, but you couldn’t have read…”  
“Do we need to?” Basira was smirking while sharing a mischievous glare with Jon.  
Something took away Tim from that place, back to the paranoia and the rage and almost fear toward Jon and what he was becoming, to feeling betrayed, sad and angry all the time; consumed by guilt, by the loss of Danny and the fact that he could not even remember Sasha, just a blank space were her name had been written.  
Luckily for him, now the real Sasha was next to him and was able to bring him back to his new present with a high-pitched ‘STOKER’.  
He forced a smile, it becoming more natural as the seconds went by and, then, realising he couldn’t focus exclusively on Sasha, turned to everyone.  
“So, my fellow traumatised humans and minor eldritch horrors, what do you think?”

That evening Tim dropped dead on his couch after one of the most tiring (yet rewarding) days of his entire…two lives?  
He curled up under his blanked with a pattern of tiny dogs and bit a piece of his favourite chocolate (Dove Chocolate, discovered to him by, of course, his brother in one of his hiperfixiations; that time trying to find ‘the best chocolate in all possible aspects’) with a grin of satisfaction in his face.  
A voice reprehended him.  
“Oy, Stoker, I thought you were going to wait for me!”  
Sasha made herself place next to him in the couch, reclaiming half of the blanket and laying her head in his chest.  
None of them said anything, there was no need.  
And they let the world pass by, for forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, we are at the end…for now. Planning a long term fic with a lot of spooky statements set in this AU in 2021, an interlude that is kind of co-written and also…some more loose ideas for a MPU (Marla’s Podcasts Universe).  
> And, yep, I actually did research to find a cool kayaking river in the UK, that’s the level (and spent MORE THAN AN HOUR RESEARCHING BECAUSE KAYAKING RIVERS ARE COOL AND MY FOCUS SPAN IS QUITE LOW!)  
> As always, any random comments, kudos or feedback are highly appreciated.   
> Long live and prosperity,   
> Marla

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaand that was it for today. What did you guys think?   
> As always, any random comments, kudos or feedback are highly appreciated.   
> Long live and prosperity,   
> Marla


End file.
